


Monster

by loverjoy



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Pre-Relationship, and maybe cuddle a little, everybody cares about him though, he needs a hug really, he's surprised, or at least will be, tagora and tyzias are moiralls, tagora has a crisis, tagora just wants to hold a hand, they all do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loverjoy/pseuds/loverjoy
Summary: Tagora works his first case, but things didn't turn out as he'd hoped. The system on Alternia rears it's ugly head, taking him by surprise, but at least that tired student he's always messing with knows how to help in the end.
Relationships: Tagora Gorjek/Galekh Xigisi, Tyzias Entykk/Tagora Gorjek
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic about some Friendsim trolls, but I really love these two and wanted to write something for them! I hope you guys enjoy it and thanks for reading!

This was a lot different than he was expecting it to be. He knew this society had its flaws, but every society did. Just turns out this society’s flaws were a lot worse than most and he wasn’t expecting everything to be this awful.

It was his first trial, his client was a bronze blood who had accidentally torn a poster of The Condesce. His bike handle caught the corner of it, tearing it in half. He’d been beaten on sight and dragged to jail. This all happened in a day’s time. Tagora had only just met the guy earlier today, but he had a job to do and he was going to do it right.

The greatest lawyers were able to get even a lowblood out of trouble, and he was going to be the best.

Of course, not everything goes as planned and he wasn’t going to be the best right away. If ever at all.

It all happened so fast. There was nothing fair about what happened. In this society, the perceived “criminal” wasn’t allowed to speak, so it was up to him to defend him and try to get him out of this. 

Trials were pretty much set to go one way before they even began.

The court decided that because he’s a lowblood he was acting out against The Condesce and her followers and that he should be punished immediately. Tagora had tried to defend him, tried to say it was just an accident, but time ran out.

It only lasted a few minutes.

Suddenly, something warm was on his face and it took him a minute to come to his senses and figure out just what it was. His eyes focused and he lifted a hand to touch his face, only to pull it away and find bronze soaked fingertips. 

He was dead. His client was dead. He’d been shot by a drone right in front of him and nobody batted an eye. How could this happen? Was it always so gorey? 

_It’s so warm._

“Clean this up,” A highblood judge ordered, banging his gavel on his desk.

Tagora stood there and shook. He had to get out of here. He looked to the judge, opening his mouth to speak, his voice a squeak, “May I be pardoned?”

The judge looked him once over then he simply waved a hand to dismiss him. Tagora turned on his heel, walking towards the exit, feeling empty. Once he was out the door, his breath increased and his chest started to feel tight. He felt disgusting. He needed to get this blood off.

He stumbled to the restroom, using the wall as his guide and crutch so he wouldn’t fall. He felt weak and he was trembling, all of his energy was draining. He felt like death itself and he might as well be.

He just killed a man.

He almost tripped when he entered the bathroom, clumsily finding his way to the sink and fumbling for the faucet. He turned it on, water gushing out and he pushed his hands underneath and splashed it onto his face. It was cold and grounding, but not enough. When he looked in the mirror all he saw was the face of someone who let a man die.

_It’s my fault._

He looked down at his hands, fingertips stained bronze. A reminder of what he did, what he was capable of, who he couldn’t save. 

He has blood on his hands.

_I have to get it off._

He pushed his hands under the water, scrubbing at his hands. _Get off, get off, get off. It has to come off, it has to! Come on, come on!_ The water draining into the sink was tinted bronze, but even still Tagora still felt dirty. Still felt sick.

_Why won’t it come off?_

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and along with his face he caught sight of his clothes. They also had blood on them. They had to be taken care of too.

“Shit…” He cursed to himself, wet hands fumbling with the buttons of his teal colored vest, bronze splotches contrasting greatly against it.

His hands were wet and shaking, making it difficult to undo the buttons. _Come on, I have to get this off._ He was able to get one undone, just one more to go. It was hard and it took a few curse words and slippery fingers to get it done, but he got the second button undone. He grabbed at the fabric of his vest, untucking it and pulling it off of his body; he just threw it to the side, he didn’t care where it landed.

He was quick to untuck his undershirt and pull it off too, tossing it onto the floor with his vest. The bloody clothes were off, so that was a relief. He looked in the mirror, seeing his face with a few strands of wet hair sticking to it, his body that looked too thin to support his bones, and his trembling hands that he could only see bronze on.

There was blood on his hands.

And it wasn’t the same color as his.

He pushed his hands under the water again, scrubbing at them to get the blood off. _Come off, come off, come off, it won’t come off._ He turned the faucet over, making the water hot. Maybe that would help? He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, and when it wouldn’t come off he let out a strangled scream.

_Why won’t it come off?!_

Nothing is working. No matter how much he scrubbed, no matter how much he begged and pleaded and cursed it just wouldn’t come off. His hands hurt, the water was too hot, but he wasn’t registering the pain right now. Hell, he wasn’t even registering the tears running down his face. He felt so numb. 

He didn’t hear the door open, he didn’t hear the sound of sandals hitting the tile floor, he barely heard the droning voice speak his name, “...Gor Gor?”

He freezes when he hears the voice, and his hands tremble under the scalding water; he hasn’t even noticed his hands turning teal from the heat. His voice was shaking when he spoke, turning his eyes back to look at his hands as he scrubbed, “I’ve got to get it off, Tyzias… It’s all over me…”

“What’s all…” She really couldn’t believe what she’d walked in on. Tagora was standing there, shirtless and crying, scrubbing his hands in-- Fuck, the water, “Tagora, stop!”

She dashed forward, setting her cup down before she reached him. She turned off the water before she grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from the sink. He fought against her, but not very well. She held his hands up, looking them over briefly, “Tagora, what were you thinking?! What are you even doing? Are you--”

She cut herself off when she caught sight of his eyes. They were bloodshot, teal tears streaming down his face; he looked so afraid. She’s never seen him like this before. Tagora was a smartass and cocky and probably a thousand other negative traits, but she had never seen him in pain before.

It was scary to look at.

“Tagora… what happened?” She asked, still holding onto his wrists.

He sniffled, trying to find his words, “I-I-- I just killed somebody.”

It took her a moment to process that information, and when she did she didn’t even know what to say, “...What?”

“There was--There was a lowblood. He was my client. I-I was supposed to help him. All he did was accidentally tear a poster. But they killed him and I didn’t do anything. I just watched. I just--” He looked at his burnt hands, “There’s blood. Don’t you see it?”

_Shit._

She suddenly understood. She knew what happened, she always knew how this was going to play out. Tagora was always too wrapped up in being the best to realize it. He’d never seen this happening, he’d thought he could stop it. Truthfully, no one could.

Or, at least that’s how it seemed for now.

“Tagora, it’s not your fault…” She said softly, softening her features for him.

His eyes were wide and crazed, his fingers twitching anxiously as she kept a hold on his wrists, “But it is! You weren’t there, Tyzias! You didn’t see them gun him down! You didn’t feel the blood on your face and hands and clothes! It was so warm…”

“Hey, calm down,” Tyzias tried, shaking him a bit to try and snap him out of it, but it wasn’t working.

“I just watched him die, Tyzias! And I felt like I was the only one who cared! I knew the system was fucked but I always thought I’d be able to change it! I-I can’t--” He cut himself to swallow, then he looked her in the eyes, “I can’t change anything.”

She’s felt annoyed by him, she’s felt angered by him, even tired of him. But she’s never felt bad for him like she's feeling right now.

She never thought she’d be in this situation, but here she is. Holding Tagora and letting him cry against her chest. He gripped the sleeves of her jacket, sobbing against her. She frowned and placed her hands on his bare back, rubbing soothing circles against his skin. He was shaking, holding onto her like a lice. He was upset and terrified.

She thought she was pretty good at this comforting thing, Stelsa became stressed rather easily and she was always there for her to help ease her worries. It seemed to work more often than not, maybe it’d be the same with him?

“It’s all my fault…” Tagora sobbed, fingers tightening their grip on her shirt, voice muffled against her chest.

“It’s not,” She soothed, frowning deeply as she tried to comfort him, “It’s not your fault.”

He continued to sob and she just stood there with him, holding him close and rubbing her hand up and down the length of his back. He was almost concerningly thin, did the guy ever eat? Hell, even she was bulkier than him, and she barely had time to do anything besides work.

“Let me see your hands,” She said, voice soft. 

He sniffled, tears still freely falling down his face, but he pushed away a bit. He didn’t look at her, seeming embarrassed for being caught like this. She grabbed his wrists again, hands slipping into his and holding them up. He winced, which she noticed.

“Do they hurt?” She asked, and he nodded, “We need to bandage them, then,” He sniffled, which brought her attention to his face; he was trying to stop crying, “Stelsa’s not at my hive today, do you want to come by?”

Tagora shook his head, “No, it’s okay. I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

Tyzias gave him a scolding look, “Now’s not the time for your pride, Tagora. There’s nothing wrong with accepting help.”

He seemed anxious, but he wasn’t pulling his hands away from hers. In fact, his fingers sort of curled around hers, as if he were craving that little bit of comfort. She released the tension from her shoulders, squeezing his hands in hopes it would sooth him.

“Okay,” She said, nodding, “Don’t move.”

She slowly and carefully released his hands and moved away from him, going to get his clothes he’d thrown onto the floor. He was shivering with cold, and she brought his clothes back over to him. He looked at them with disgust, and she understood why, but she reassured him, “I know, they’re… dirty. But you can’t be walking around half naked, people might think we’re…”

Her face flushed a bit and when it soaked in what she said, his face burned too. He took his clothes from her, pulling his sweater back over him and then his vest. He felt disgusting, but he didn’t want to get ridiculed or in trouble. 

“Come on,” Tyzias said, reaching a hand out for his.

He looked at her offered hand, wondering if he should take it. He has a kismesis, she had a matesprit, so obviously walking home half naked would allude to the fact that one of them is either cheating or partaking in polyamorous relationships, both of which were bordering on the edge of illegal in this society. But… holding hands wouldn’t allude to either, right? Moiralls hold hands, it’s quite common for them to in fact. It’s a comforting tactic. But what did that mean? Was Tyzias his moirall? He couldn’t really deny that he’d had some feelings for her before that he would define as pale, but she probably didn’t feel the same way.

She thought he was annoying and smug and whiny and now she probably thinks he’s a murderer. What’s another thing to add to the list of things that were unlikeable about him?

“Gor-Gor?” The sound of her speaking his nickname pulled him out of his darkening thoughts, and he lifted his head to look at her. She looked concerned, and for some reason that actually made him feel a little better.

“Yeah, let’s go,” He said, taking her hand finally.

It felt warmer than his, and the pressure she put against his hand grounded him a bit. It was soothing. He let her lead him out of the restroom, and once they were outside in the hallway he felt like everybody was staring at him. His body burned with their gazes, he felt like he was on fire. A whimper got trapped in his throat and suddenly he was being pulled forward. He stumbled and tripped, only to fall against Tyzias’ side; she wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“You’re alright,” She said quietly, and he nodded, trying to agree with her.

It was too bad he didn’t.

Being outside made him cool down at least. It was the 10th dark season’s equinox, so it was granted to be a bit chilly. He was grateful for it. Tyzias guided him through the streets, and luckily her hive wasn’t too far from the courthive. 

Soon enough, she was pulling away from him and unlocking her door before she gestured for him to walk in before her. He looked around when he stepped inside, barely registering Tyzias closing the door behind him. It was a bit messy in here, but he was a bit picky when it came to tidiness anyway, so he wasn’t going to complain. 

“Sorry for the mess,” Tyzias said, stepping forward, “I know you like to keep things cleaned up but--”

“It’s fine,” He cut her off, turning his head to look up at her, “Do you have anything I can change into?”

She was surprised by the tremor in his voice and the sad look in his eye, but she softened her features after a moment and nodded, “Yeah, follow me.”

She led him through the loungeblock and down the hall, flipping on some lights as she went, and finally they were in her respiteblock. She stepped over to her dresser, going through some shirts and seeing what she could find that he could wear. Finally she pulled out an old black t-shirt she tends to sleep in.

“Here,” She handed it to him, “It’s a little big, even for me. So, sorry about that.”

Tagora shook his head, “No, it’s fine. Thank you.”

It was weird, Tagora being polite. He was everything but nice to her, he was like that with everybody. He was always looking for ways to antagonize people, but now… God, it was so hard to see.

“Well, uh… I’ll leave you alone and go make something to drink, okay?” She told him, and he nodded.

She watched him for a minute, making sure he was okay. He was still and quiet and he was holding her shirt in his hands like it was the only thing keeping him sane. She released a quiet sigh and turned away, leaving him in peace for a minute. When she left, he was left alone in the quiet, and the quiet wasn’t good for his head. He started thinking, and none of the thoughts he had were good ones.

_Failure._

_Not good enough._

_Murderer._

It was all too much. Everything that happened today, it all weighed on him too heavily. It suddenly hurt to breathe. That burn that had been on his skin was now consuming his lungs. His chest felt tight, he couldn’t even force air in or out of his body; his eyes burned now too.

He felt his knees buckle and he fell to the floor, curling onto his side. The tears began to flow freely again as he choked for air, sobbing uncontrollably. He’s left alone for thirty seconds and suddenly his world comes crumbling apart. He really is good for nothing.

He felt Tyzias’ shirt in his hands, the fabric soft against his fingers. He looked down at his hands, slender fingers curled around the shirt like it was his lifeline. These are the hands of a killer. He couldn’t look at them, and when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall he found he couldn’t even look at himself.

_Murderer._

That word kept ringing in his head and he couldn’t get it to leave. _God, why? Why, why, why?_

He pulled the shirt against his chest, trying to focus on the feeling of it against his skin. It was soothing at least, and it smelled like coffee. _Just like Tyzias._ She actually seemed to care, she actually took him all the way to her own hive just to be there for him. Who else would have done that? _Would Galekh have done that?_ He doesn’t know. He hopes he would’ve.

Soon enough, he was crying silently, teal tears falling off his face and onto the floor. He needs to get up, but he had no energy left in his body. It hurt and he didn’t know why. Everything hurt.

Footsteps were in the doorway, a voice speaking something about a hot drink, then the voice became panicked and worried before the footsteps were quick and moving towards him, “...Gora!”

Hands were on his arm, gentle and careful, and when he turned his head he saw who brought him here, “...Tyzias?”

“Shit, are you okay?” She asked, looking him over in concern, as if searching for injuries.

He worried her. _Dammit._

“Sorry…” He muttered, voice barely audible, “It hurts…”

“What hurts?” She spoke, voice thick with a little edge.

He had to reassure her, “Don’t worry, I didn’t hurt myself… It just… hurts…”

She was silent for a moment, trying to decipher what he was saying, “Tagora, tell me what hurts.”

“My stomach, my chest…” He sniffled, “My head…”

He was surprised when her hands started wandering, but he didn’t really mind it too much. It was nice to have a gentle touch, he never really got that. Her hands found the back of his arms, moving them away from his midsection a bit so she could feel his chest, then she released a deep breath and put a hand on the side of his head, pushing his hair back.

“It’s been a long day,” She said, claws pushing against his scalp to try and sooth him, “I made you a hot drink…" She looked to the shirt he was clutching in his hands, "Do you want me to help you with that?”

She gestured to the shirt, and he brushed his fingers against the fabric again before he nodded. She grabbed his arms, helping him at least sit up, then she took the shirt from him and set it next to her. Everything that's happening right now was very intimate, and they both knew it, but he needed help. She wasn’t going to deny him of that.

He was able to remove his vest himself and drop it on the floor, but his trembling hands had a hard time with his sweater, so Tyzias helped him with that. She grabbed his hands and pushed them out of the way, gingerly grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up and over his head and off of his arms. She discarded it on top of his vest, then she turned back to face him.

She’d seen him without a shirt twice today and both times she thought he looked too skinny for it to be healthy. She frowned and furrowed her eyebrows, but before she could say anything else to him he reached his hands out, awkwardly looking for something to grab onto; he decided on her sleeves.

“Tagora?” She spoke, voice a bit higher with confusion.

He had his head bowed when he said, “Touch me.”

Her face burned slightly, and she stammered over her words, “W-wha--”

“It’s not a flushed thing, I promise,” He quickly reaffirmed, but he did lean closer to her, “But nobody else has ever touched me the way you have and I just need to know somebody actually cares.”

She was surprised by what he had to say, but she understood what he meant. Tagora had a kismesis, and she didn’t know what happened behind closed doors, but knowing how they interacted outside it wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion that they weren’t gentle. Not many kismesis' were.

“Tell me I’m not a monster…” He pleaded.

Tyzias relaxed and leaned forward, placing her hands against his bare skin, giving him what he asked. She leaned her head against his, speaking into his ear, “You’re not a monster.”

He released a choked sob and the breath he hadn’t been able to find a moment ago, some of his tension finally melting away. He kept his focus on her hands on his body, feeling them glide down his sides and push against his waist before they came back up to rub circles in between his shoulder blades.

“Hey, let’s put this on, okay? Then we’ll go sit on the loungeplank and relax for the rest of the day, yeah?” Tyzias said, grabbing his shoulders.

Tagora seemed reluctant to do that, so Tyzias reassured him, “We can stay close.”

She felt him nod against his shoulder, and soon they were pulling away from each other. She grabbed the clean shirt off the floor, helping him put it on. After he was covered, she grabbed his hands and helped him stand, the shirt falling into place. It was big on him, fell to his knees, but Tyzias smiled at him anyway, “Looking good, Gor-Gor,” He blushed a little and she gestured for him to come with her, “Come on, let’s go.”

He followed her out of the room and she directed him to the loungeplank, where he sat before she brought him his drink. It was warm in the mug and when she urged him to take a drink, he did. It was hot chocolate of some kind, it felt nice going down his sore throat.

Tyzias sat down next to him, taking a sip of her own drink before she set it down on the coffee table and leaned back against the cushions next to him. They were side by side, their thighs touching. Tagora drummed his nervous fingers against his mug, and he ended up drinking about half the contents in it before he set it down and leaned back to sit with Tyzias.

She was pretty straight forward, always has been, “Are you okay?” He shrugged, “...Do you want to talk about what happened today?”

“What is there to talk about?” He asked, looking at his feet dangling off the edge of the loungeplank, “I killed somebody. I--”

“You didn’t kill anybody,” Tyzias told him, “Society is fucked up. Simple as that. The system failed that man. Not you.”

Tagora was silent at that; he couldn’t believe her, “Can I ask you something?”

Tyzias looked to him, nodding, “Of course.”

“Why did you decide to help me?” He sounded so confused and upset, it actually hurt to hear.

She just adjusted the way she was sitting, leaning more against him, shoulders pressed against the other, “Tagora, I found you in the restroom half-naked and trying to tear the flesh off of your hands,” She looked to said hands then, “Speaking of which, you should probably get those bandaged.”

“I don’t want to get up again. It hurts,” He told her, which she understood.

“That’s okay,” She said, then she looked to his hand next to hers and she grabbed it gingerly, “Let me take a look.”

She cradled his hand in hers, prodding at it gently. She traced patterns against his palm and fingers for a while before he realized she wasn’t inspecting injuries but trying to sooth him. It was working, at least.

“No matter what I think about this situation…” He shifted in his seat, leaning his head against her shoulder and training his eyes on her fingers, watching the patterns they painted on his skin, “Thank you for caring.”

Tyzias smiled tiredly, “Any time, Gor-Gor.”

He fell asleep after a while, soothed by the feeling of her fingers against his skin and watching their repetitive movements. The weight of his body leaning against her got heavier, signalling he’d fallen asleep, but she didn’t let go of his hand. She smiled and leaned her head to the side, resting it against his and relaxing.

It would take Tagora some time to get through this, but he would eventually. For now, they slept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tagora wakes up in Tyzias' hive and struggles to remember what happened. Tyzias helps him calm down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it will be multichapter I guess lmao. I've been having Tagora feels lately, so I decided to continue. I hope y'all enjoy this chapter, I had loads of fun writing it. The chapters will probably be longer now too now that I know it's multichapter, hope y'all don't mind.

He knows he woke up a little earlier than he usually did, and he wasn’t quite sure why. It was dark out at least, so he at least slept through the day. His eyes were heavy and burning a little, and it took him a couple minutes to figure out why. Until then, he blinked and looked around. 

_Where… am I?_

He wasn’t in a recuperacoon, he was on a lounge plank and it wasn’t even in a place he was familiar with. This wasn’t his hive. There was something warm against his side, but he didn’t really register that for a minute either. Man, his head was so foggy. 

_What happened yesterday? Did I drink too much and black out or something?_

He looked around a little more, eyes catching what he was wearing. An oversized t-shirt. He would never wear this on his own, somebody gave this to him. The warmth against his side finally registered as someone else, and when he turned to look at them he saw Tyzias sound asleep next to him. His eyes widened, not expecting to see her. What the hell is going on here? What happened yesterday? Nothing happened… between them, did it? No, it couldn’t have. He was in a kismesitude with someone else, and her in a matespritship. They didn’t even get along, they were borderline hateful to one another…

_Shit, nothing pitch happened yesterday did it?_

Just as he began to panic, the body pressed against his shifted. His eyes widened and he felt panic shoot through his body. Tyzias yawned and moved a little more, then he felt her body stiffen as well. She noticed he was with her. Her voice didn’t give away her nervousness if she even felt any.

“Gor-Gor--”

He yelped when she spoke, quickly jumping away from her and to the other side of the lounge plank. His back hit the arm and his hands grabbed at the cushion on either side of him. His eyes were wide and he felt his bloodpusher racing faster than normal. 

“I-I--” He swallowed thickly, anxiety pumping through his system, “What is going on here?! Why am I here?!”

She blinked and tilted her head, eyebrows furrowing to form a… concerned expression? “Tagora… Do you not remember what happened yesterday?”

Was she upset? Did he make her mad? Shit, what happened yesterday? He stumbled to find his words, feeling his face flush a little as his mind found thoughts he really didn’t want to find, “N-no, but whatever it is I don’t want to hear about it! So forget it!”

It took Tyzias a moment for her sleepy mind to process what he was insinuating, and then she felt her face turn a little teal like his was currently; she rolled her eyes, “Nothing like that happened, you idiot. Even drunk off my ass, I’m not that stupid.”

Tagora frowned, pouting a bit as he looked away from her. Well, that hurt a little bit. She didn’t really seem to notice him taking offense to that and instead continued, “I think you’re in a little bit of shock right now. Do you not remember anything that happened yesterday?”

Tagora blinked, trying to think. Why was yesterday such a blur? Was she sure he didn’t just get drunk and black out?

“I-I don’t know. Yesterday is… foggy for some reason. Care to enlighten me?” He was being snappy like he usually was with her, a complete 180 from how he was acting yesterday.

He was confused too, because Tyzias wasn't snapping back with just as much fervor. She wasn’t snapping back at all, really. She just looked… concerned. Which was not something she ever felt for him.

“Tagora…” Her voice was soft as she sat up, letting her feet touch the floor. She looked at him with a gentle gaze, “The trial was yesterday.”

A gasp got caught in his throat as suddenly memories of yesterday began flooding his mind. The trial, the drone, a dead body hitting the floor, blood covering his clothes and skin. It had been so warm, so was the water, scalding hot on his skin. Suddenly, the burns there itched and he felt like scratching. So he did.

Neat and manicured claws tore at the skin on his hands, more memories of yesterday flooding his head. Tyzias had found him in the bathroom. He’d been in the process of taking off his clothes, trying to rid himself of the stubborn bronze blood. She’d taken him to her hive, which is where he was now. She helped him change, gave him a drink, helped soothe him. She held his hands, soothing the burns.

Like she was right now.

She scooted forward quickly, grabbing his hands before he could hurt himself. Damn, those memories hit him like a train, “Tagora, calm down. Look at me. Look at where you are. Everything is--”

“Don’t say everything is fine! How is this fine?!” Tagora yelled, his panic overwhelming him, “Someone is dead because of me! That’s not what I would consider fine, Tyzias!”

“They’re not dead because of you!” Tyzias tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen.

“Yes, he is! It’s all my fault! I was supposed to protect him! Why-why couldn’t I-- I don’t understand! I--”

“Tagora!” Tyzias grabbed his shoulders, shaking him a little to try and clear his head and get him to look at her, “The system works against us! It wasn’t your fault! It’s literally impossible for that trial to have gone any other way!”

“But-but-- But I was supposed to help him… I was supposed to be different…” His voice as lowered, but his eyes were still full of sorrow. Tyzias frowned and softened her features.

“That’s what I want to think for myself too…” She told him, easing up on her grip on him and slumping her shoulders, turning her eyes elsewhere as she spoke, “But sadly that’s not going to be the case for me either…”

Tagora wasn’t really listening to her. Instead, he was looking down at himself. This shirt was new. It smelled nice. Like coffee. Like Tyzias. It was nice of her to give him this. It was comfortable. But… His pants! He’d never noticed! He never changed them, but there was blood on them. Not a lot, but it was still there.

He was still panicking and Tyzias was telling him something, but everything sounded muffled right now except his own ringing thoughts. She was no longer holding his hands, so he busied himself with trying to wipe away the blood. Obviously, it had long dried by now, but that didn’t stop him from trying. When it didn’t work though, he figured he’d have to just take his pants off to be rid of it. He’d have to burn these clothes. He didn’t feel right wearing them again after what had gotten on them.

His trembling fingers grabbed the hem of his, or rather Tyzias’, shirt and lifted it so he could get to the waist of his pants. He undid the buttons, but only got as far as undoing the zipper before Tyzias looked back to him. 

Her face turned teal, wondering what on Alternia he was fucking doing right now. And she voiced that.

“W-what the hell are you doing?!” He didn’t seem to catch the tone she was using, just that she cried out. He didn’t care though, he just needed to get these off.

“Th-there’s blood… on my pants…” He was struggling to breathe, he suddenly felt so hot, “I gotta… gotta get em off…”

_Why’s it so hard to breathe in here?_

She grabbed his hands, trying to pull them away. She’d really rather him not strip on her lounge plank, “Tagora, stop!”

“They’re dirty…” Tagora was rambling; he really wasn’t thinking straight right now, “I-I feel disgusting… I am disgusting…”

“Would you just…” She wrestled with his hands, grabbing his wrists and moving closer to gain more control. She pushed him back, making him fall onto his back as she finally was able to get him to stop, “Calm down!”

She fell partially on top of him, pinning his hands above his head as she huffed above him. He looked scared and shocked, his breath coming in gasps. She was breathing heavy too, though she was just a bit exhausted from trying to get him to calm down. She caught his eyes, seeing the fear in them. His fingers were twitching, his chest was heaving; he looked scared out of his mind.

On the other hand, yeah. His chest was heaving, his hair was disheveled, he was wearing her shirt, and his pants were undone. Even better yet, she was pinning him down onto the lounge plank and keeping his arms in place above his head. Thank Gog it’s early. This would not be the opportune moment for Stelsa to walk in. Or, anyone for that matter.

Her face was teal, and so was his when he squeaked, “...Tyzias?”

She flinched out of her stupor, blinking and looking down at him. They looked at each other for a few seconds, and his thin fingers continued to twitch. He looked to have calmed down, so Tyzias took that as a sign she could get off of him now. And that’s what she did.

She released his wrists and sat back, crawling off of him and giving him room to sit up and adjust. She sat about a foot away, avoiding eye contact as he sat up and curled up in the corner of the lounge plank. He wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling them to his chest as he looked off to the side and away from Tyzias. Half his face was hidden behind his knees, a teal flush still present on his face.

It was silent for a couple seconds, some tension hanging in the air. Tagora was trying to calm down from his panic attack and Tyzias was giving him the space he needed to do that. She did chance a glance at him though, making sure he wasn’t clawing at his flesh again. He wasn’t, so that was good.

She heard him sniffle, and she tried to catch his eyes, but he was still avoiding looking at her. He did speak though, “I’m a pain in the ass, you can say it.”

Tyzias blinked. That took her off guard for some reason. She smirked though, giving him a smug look, “Is that your pathetic way of saying “I’m sorry”?”

Tagora shot a glare in her direction, “And why would I be sorry?”

Tyzias shrugged, “Cuz you're a pain in the ass.”

Tagora’s eyes narrowed further, and it made Tyzias laugh. At least she saw something familiar about him, “I’m just messing with you.”

“Fucking bulgemuncher…” He muttered quietly, but she still heard him.

She laughed again, but lighter this time. She flapped a hand around, smiling softly, “You don’t need to be sorry, I’m just pulling your leg. You’re fine.”

It was quiet for a brief moment, the annoyed look melting away from Tagora’s face slowly. He suddenly felt sad and scared again, and he felt his shoulders start to tremble again, “Do you… really think none of what happened was my fault?”

Tyzias was quiet, but only briefly. She shook her head, “No, I don’t think what happened was your fault.”

Tagora was quiet then, and for longer than she was. He wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was watching his fingers tap his knees, one by one. He was thinking much too deeply. She could see him going down a dark path again, so she decided to try and distract him away from it. 

She scooted forward, reaching out and grabbing his fingers gently, “I wasn’t able to see how bad these were yesterday. Let me look at them.”

He wasn’t protesting, but she could tell he was nervous. She wasn’t sure why, but his muscles were stiff under her hands. She inspected his hands, looking over the long and slender appendages carefully. They were teal from the burns, and they must be giving him some discomfort if the way his fingers kept twitching meant anything.

“I probably have something you can put on these,” She told him, looking up to catch his eyes.

He was looking at his hands when she was, and he looked up when she did and their eyes met. He kept looking at her like that, it was making her a bit… flustered. But he didn’t seem to feel like that, but then again, he was a bit out of it and probably didn’t realize he was even staring in the first place.

She cleared her throat, “Anyway. Come with me, I’ll help you with these.”

He blinked and snapped out of it, watching her stand and release his hands. He frowned at the loss of her hands in his. He quite liked it, the feeling of someone holding his hands. Galekh didn’t hold his hand, not like this anyway. The only time he ever grabbed his hand was when he wanted a quick pail in the ablution block and needed to drag Tagora back there. Which was fine. They were kismesis, they weren’t supposed to be gentle and soft and lovey-dovey. He didn’t want that with Galekh.

But he sure wanted it with somebody.

He practically stumbled behind Tyzias towards the ablution block, lost in thought. His head hurt and his eyes burned from all the crying he did yesterday. He was almost embarrassed at the display he showed in front of Tyzias. She’d never let him live this down. 

She stepped into the room ahead of him, and he stopped before he stumbled too far. He followed her inside, biting his cheek before he could say anything about the chaotic disarray of her ablution block. Not everyone was such a clean freak like himself.

She shuffled through a drawer, pulling out some bandages and some kind of solvent. He stood there awkwardly, fingers twitching with pain as he watched her brush some of the paste from the tube onto the bandages. 

She noticed him standing there stiff as a board, so she motioned for the closed toilet lid, “You can sit down, Gor-Gor,” When he didn’t move, she looked at him and rolled her eyes, “I understand it’s not up to Gorjek perfection in here, but I promise you won’t die just because you take a seat.”

His eyebrow twitched, and he fell back into his usual snarky tone with her, “Are you so sure about that? Maybe I’ll come down with some wretched disease or something.”

Again, Tyzias rolled her eyes, “I’ve used this block a thousand times and I’m not sick yet, so…”

“Not physically, maybe,” Tagora snapped, crossing his arms.

Tyzias was quick to snap back with, “You’ve got some room to talk there, Gorjek.”

Tagora went silent at that, not liking what she was insinuating. He deserved it though, he’d just told her the same thing. Even still, thinking back to yesterday he had to wonder if he had a few screws loose or something to do what he did. To act the way he did.

Tyzias, concerned by his lack of comeback, turned to look at him again. She saw the dejected look on his face, and suddenly she felt bad, “Oh, Tagora. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m--”

“It’s fine,” He cut her off quickly, stepping around her and going to sit on the toilet like she’d told him he could. 

He put his balled up fists on his legs, looking at his feet. He’d never taken his shoes off. Luckily, they were clean of blood, so at least he could keep these. One thing he walked away from yesterday with. 

Tyzias felt bad for what she said to him, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. So, she dropped it. Instead, she finished what she was doing and closed the cap on the solvent. She turned to the other teal blood a moment later, holding some bandages.

“Let me see one of your hands,” She said softly. 

Tagora remained quiet as he stuck one of his hands out, letting Tyzias take ahold of it and start wrapping it with the sopor soaked bandages. She cradled his hand gently, and the coolness of the sopor was so relieving. He sighed, relaxing his shoulders and relieving the tension there finally.

Tyzias glanced at his face as she wrapped his hands, seeing he’d closed his eyes. He still looked very tired, and for a moment she wondered if he had fallen back asleep. He opened his eyes though, catching her looking at him. He seemed awkward about the eye contact, but Tyzias simply asked him, “Does that feel better?”

He avoided looking at her, but he did nod, “Yeah… Thanks…”

She smirked and snickered, “It was no problem, Gor-Gor.”

She called him that a lot. So did Galekh. But Galekh always said to tick him off, it was always so mocking. Tagora really didn’t appreciate the nickname too much, which was exactly why people used it. Not many people were nice to him, which was understandable. He was kind of an asshole. But for some reason, this time Tyzias said it, it felt different. She said it in an endearing way. She was trying to keep him calm. 

This was nice.

“Let me see the other one,” She said softly, releasing his wrapped hand and reaching for his opposite one.

He held it out to her, flinching a bit when a claw brushed the burn; she apologized. She started to wrap his hand, and he watched her movements intently. She was surprisingly gentle with him. He for some reason was expecting her to be rough, or at least rougher. She didn’t really like him, and for a while he thought he didn’t really like her. He doesn’t know if that’s changing now because she’s helping him, or maybe he never really disliked her at all.

That threw him for a loop. He should’ve realized sooner. He was always making up excuses to talk to her, even if their conversation quickly progressed into confrontation. She could be mean, which was warranted considering he was always rude to her, but her approach wasn’t as aggressive as others. For some reason, he appreciated that.

He wasn’t really sure how long he was lost in this train of thought, but he snapped out of it soon enough when Tyzias spoke. He flinched and looked up at her, seeing a concerned look in her eyes, “...you okay?”

“Huh?” Yeah, she was staring. His face burned in embarrassment, almost as if she could read his mind and heard everything he just thought, “Y-yeah, I’m fine!” He caught how loud and squeaky his voice was there and he winced before lowering it, “Sorry, I just… got lost in thought there for a second, I guess.”

That didn’t seem to lower her concern, “I feel like I’ve said it a hundred times, but I’ll say it again: it wasn’t your fault what happened yesterday.”

Oh, she thought that’s what he was thinking about. He wasn’t, but now he was. That sadness, grief, and shame suddenly washed back over him. It was haunting. He frowned and slumped his shoulders, looking at his shoes again, “Yeah, I just hope someday I can believe that.”

It was silent for a minute. Tagora drifted off into bad thoughts again and Tyzias kept hold of his recently bandaged hand. She slowly lowered it, instead raising her hand to his shoulder and snapping him out of it again, “Come on, get up. I can make you something to eat.”

He nodded, getting to his feet. He stumbled though, feeling lightheaded all of the sudden. Tyzias steadied him, hands on his arms. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to calm down. _Why is my bloodpusher pumping so fast?_ The anxiety was almost overwhelming.

“I’m fine,” He told her, his head clearing of the fog as he regained control of his footing. She let him go, and he smoothed out his shirt before noticing he forgot to fix his pants earlier after his panic attack. His face turned teal for the hundredth time tonight, “Shit. Sorry, I-I don’t know what got into me earlier. I--”

“It’s alright, Gor-Gor,” Tyzias told him.

He nodded, but he still avoided looking at her. This whole night had been nothing but an embarrassment so far. He can’t let himself act like this again. He tried fixing his pants, but found it difficult with his bandaged fingers. Well this was frustrating. He felt like a wiggler.

“Do you need help?” Tyzias asked him.

His head snapped up to look at her, so quickly and harshly Tyzias thought he might’ve hurt himself. His face was flushed, which she noticed. She smiled about it though, finding this the perfect opportunity to tease him about it, “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

And she thought he couldn’t turn tealer, “I-I-I wasn’t worried about that, thank you!”

She chuckled, “You’re literally the easiest person to tick off.”

“Fuck off, Tyzias,” He snapped.

“Do you want my help or not?” She asked, the question sounding more genuine now.

Tagora was quiet, practically pouting as he mulled that thought over. He did need help, but he really didn’t want to admit that. On the other hand, he couldn’t walk to his hive with his pants all… well. Like this. He huffed, “Fine…”

“What was that? I didn’t hear a confirmation in there,” She wasn’t easing up, it appeared.

Tagora was annoyed now, “Oh my Gog, yes! Can you please help me, you insufferable bulgemuncher?!”

“Damn, alright. You kiss your matesprit with that mouth?” She teased, knowing full well he didn’t have a matesprit.

“Shut up,” He snapped, and she just snickered.

He tried to think of anything else as he felt her fingers at his waist. What he wasn’t expecting was for her to grab his shirt and lift it up, “Hey, what are you--”

“Hold this, it’s in the way,” She told him.

He blinked, then did as she said. He took the shirt in his hands, holding it up and now he just felt weirder. He looked anywhere but at her as he felt her fingers grab at his waistband. She was quick, thankfully. Soon enough, she let him go and stepped back, “Alright, come on. I’m sure I have something around here that’ll suit your palette.”

He glared at the back of her head as she began to walk out of the room, not liking that smug tone she was using too much. He followed her anyway though, grumbling to himself quietly. He walked out of the hall and saw Tyzias already in the mealblock, looking for something to eat.

“I can make grubcakes. You like grubcakes?” Tyzias asked, looking through her cabinets. 

Tagora watched her, but then realized he wasn’t really all that hungry. Frankly, he wanted to be somewhere else. He felt humiliated because of yesterday and tonight, he honestly just wanted to be alone. Even though that probably wasn’t the best idea for his mental state right now. That’s okay though. If he’s remembering correctly, he has company tonight.

“Actually, I think I should be going,” He told her.

She stopped and turned around, looking at him with that concern in her eyes again, “Are you sure?”

He was always caught off guard when she had that look in her eye, but he ignored it this time. He nodded instead, putting up his usual smug and annoying front, “Yes, I’m sure. I need to go get cleaned up anyway. Galekh was supposed to come over tonight.”

“Oh, I see,” She closed the cabinet and turned to face him, leaning on the counter, “Well, if you want to go, go ahead. I’m sure you’re a busy man.”

“Yes, I have some work to catch up on,” Tagora said, looking away from her as he realized, “I probably have some paperwork to fill out…”

Tyzias frowned, seeing him get that spaced out look in his eyes again. She tried to get his mind off of the bad thoughts, “Well, you’d better get going then. You’ve got a hot date. Wouldn’t want to be busy the whole time.”

He snapped out of it, looking back towards her. He was a bit spaced out for a moment, but he cleared his head quickly, “Yeah, you’re right…”

He wrung his hands behind his back, starting to turn towards the door, but he stopped himself before he even got a step forward, “Um Tyzias?”

“Hm?” She hummed, watching him curiously.

“Um… thanks. For yesterday,” He said, a bit awkwardly. He was quick to cover up his sincerity with his usual attitude though, “Don’t let that go to your head, though.”

She smirked and snickered, “I won’t… And it’s what friends do, Tagora.”

Friends? That made him falter. He didn’t let himself linger for long though, “Yes, well… I’ll get out of your way now, then.”

“Alright,” Tyzias lifted a hand and waved at him, “I’ll see you later, Gor-Gor.”

And with that, he left. He didn’t bother grabbing his old clothes, mostly because he’d forgotten about them until he had already left. He wouldn’t be wearing them again anyway, not with them covered in blood and all. He had other nice things to wear anyway, he could afford new clothes too. He just needed to get to his hive now and change out of Tyzias’ shirt, maybe wash off a little. He didn’t want to look like he’d just had a day long breakdown in front of Galekh. He’d never hear the end of it.

He’s glad he was coming over tonight. He didn’t really want to be alone for too long with these thoughts of his. He just hoped he wouldn’t take too long, he didn’t want to wait. 

He rushed to his hive, not too fond of being seen all disheveled like this out in public. This was not like him. He needed to think more of self care next time something like this happened. No, it wouldn’t happen again. He wouldn’t get like that again. He was much too clingy and unstable yesterday. No one should have seen him like that. It was embarrassing, really.

He’d be fine. He just needed to be more careful. He needed to figure out how to take care of himself. He could do that. He was good at that. Or, at least, he always thought he was. He never thought he’d be in a situation like this though. He always had “minor inconveniences.” He was quite privileged growing up, being mid-caste. There wasn’t much he had to worry about. But now… His mindset was becoming different. 

That bronze blood didn’t deserve what he got. No one deserved that. It was just a dumb poster! And he got culled for accidently ripping it?! It was disgraceful and wrong. Tagora was angry thinking about it. He was lucky he was able to keep his mouth shut back at the court, he wouldn’t have wanted to let anything slip about how he thought what had happened was against his morals. He could’ve been culled too.

He shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts away. He didn’t want to think about any of that right now. He wanted to go to his hive and see Galekh. He hoped tonight would help relieve him of some of this stress.

For now he could only hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Drop a comment and let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment and let me know what you think! <3


End file.
